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... seem to work for a long time. He had severely underestimated the ability of his pursuers.

Currently, he could tell that there weren't any Supremes showing up around. It was very odd, but it seemed that the Crimson hadn't deemed him as a sufficient threat. But, that shouldn't be the case when he had destroyed their entrance. The only explanation here was the fact that they knew it was Max.

And, because of this, they didn't send out Supremes as it would be a waste of ability. It a ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

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